


Ghost in the Machine

by sabrina_il (marina)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Body Part Kinks, Community: kink_bingo, Experimentation, Kink Meme, M/M, Sensation Play, Sensory Deprivation, Superpowers, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-14
Updated: 2011-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/pseuds/sabrina_il
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: "Erik volunteers to let Charles test his powers on him so Charles can get better at controlling them."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost in the Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by the lovely kuwdora.

"Are you sure this is all right?" Charles asks him for the third time, standing over the bed. Charles had insisted Erik lie down for this, to prevent accidental injuries while Erik's perception of physical reality was compromised. They'd agreed that would be the only part of Erik's mind Charles would be allowed into.

"I've already told you it is," Erik says, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "Now get on with it." He turns his head away and stares at the ceiling.

He can hear Charles settle himself in a chair a few feet away. They're in one of the unoccupied guest bedrooms in the mansion, somewhere far away enough to be private but close enough to get help, in case of emergency. Charles had insisted on that part as well. Erik had wanted to comment on Charles' newfound concerns when it came to invading people's heads, but foregoing the argument was easier.

"All right. Sight first," Charles says.

Erik keeps staring resolutely at the ceiling. In an instance, everything goes dark. Erik doesn't twitch.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Erik says irritably. "And you've been able to play around with sight successfully for months now. Skip the easy stuff, there's no point in doing this if you're not going to challenge yourself."

"All right," Charles says with more confidence. "Let's try something harder."

Erik loses the feeling in his feet. He knows they're still there, but it's as though there's nothing surrounding them, not even air. He can't feel a thing. His right hand fades away and he struggles not to move it out of instinct. The non-feeling begins to climb up his calves. His arms – flesh and bone and blood – are lost to him. He tries to take a deep breath but somehow there isn't enough space in his throat or room in his lungs.

The feeling in his limbs returns as suddenly as it had disappeared. The light, reflected from the ceiling, shines bright in his eyes, the covers feel cool against his bare feet, his right wrist itches. He feels restless and disoriented, sensations flooding over him, nerves in hyper drive. "Why the hell did you stop?" He manages to choke the words out on the second try.

"Because all your thoughts suddenly switched to German," Charles says, coming into Erik's field of vision, "instead of the usual linguistic mish-mash. And because you were having trouble breathing."

The first reason, Erik knows, is why Charles stopped, but the second is what he'll use to argue Erik out of continuing with the session. "Shaw is working with a telepath who, as far as we know, is stronger and more experienced than you." Erik sits up on the bed, unable to lie still any longer. "How do you expect to beat him unless you work on your powers? Or do you have some other willing guinea pig?"

Charles' mouth is a thin, unhappy line. "I'll ask Raven or one of the others."

"And which one of them do you imagine won't panic on you? Who in this mansion isn't terrified of losing control of their body?"

Charles seems to consider this for a moment, but then his face turns resolute again. "I've told you, I'm not going to--"

"Torture me? Do me harm?" Erik tries to keep the mockery out of his laughter. "On the list of unpleasant things I've put myself through to get closer to Shaw, how high do you think this ranks?"

Charles doesn't reply, his face an unreadable mask.

"Exactly," Erik says, quietly.

Charles shakes his head, eyes burning. "I refuse be another terrible thing you inflict on yourself, Erik. I'm sorry."

Erik wants to get up from the bed and punch him. Wants to push Charles against the wall and make him _see_. This isn't a choice, it isn't a luxury. It's not negotiable. The next time they face Shaw they'll either be able to withstand anything he throws at them, or be beaten for good. And then all of this, everything Erik's ever done, will have been for nothing.

"All right," Erik says, before Charles has a chance to walk out of the room. "How about a compromise?"

Charles looks relieved, suddenly, as though the possibility of a battle has been averted. "What do you propose?"

"Talk to me while you're doing it. Give me something to focus on." Keep my mind here, in this room, Erik doesn't say. "Unless that would negate the whole the exercise."

"No, not all," Charles says, considering. He trusts Charles not to lie to him about this. If the exercise were rendered meaningless by Erik's compromise Charles would scrap it altogether. "I have to admit, precision is the hardest part. I can paralyze someone several buildings away but to control one of their senses specifically is more of a challenge. Just being able to practice deconstructing would be invaluable. In fact," Charles' eyes light up. "I think being forced to speak out loud while I'm using my powers will only enhance the challenge in this case."

"All right," Erik says, lying back down. "So let's do it."

"What should I talk about?" Charles says, walking back to his chair.

"Whatever comes to mind," Erik says, and thinks of the last time he and Charles fucked. Blowjobs, a few nights ago, in Erik's room. Charles had been so vocal towards the end Erik had had to put a hand over his mouth to keep the whole mansion from waking up. He puts that image in his head. Charles with his eyes shut, mouth open against Erik's palm, chest heaving. He hopes Charles can get the hint.

"We're going to start with sight again," Charles says, and Erik's vision goes black. He swallows.

"Do you know what I like to think about?" Charles says. "When I'm not thinking about saving the world or keeping all my friends alive?" A feeling of numbness starts crawling up Erik's left leg, leaving a complete absence of sensation behind. "I like to think about your hands. The way you move your pieces on the chess board. The way you hold the scotch bottle when you pour."

The numbness swallows Erik's knee. He takes a slow, deep breath, and tries to exhale quietly.

"Your fingers," Charles says. "The way they curve with strain when you're bending something with your mind."

The nothingness cocoons his other leg. It's gradual this time, like a haze settling over his nerves until finally he can't feel his leg at all.

"Your hands buried in my hair, when I'm kissing you." Erik can't tell whether Charles sounds aroused or merely alert. "When I'm sucking you off."

There's a hot, wet mouth wrapped around Erik's cock. He gasps and his hands turn into fists with the effort not to move, not to rise from the bed and force Charles to take this makeshift blindfold off and fuck him senseless.

"I'm sorry, is this too disconcerting?" Charles says, the sound of his voice still as far away as it was before, as the mouth envelopes Erik whole. No one's ever taken Erik's entire cock in their mouths, but in the real world he's fairly certain he should be feeling the back of someone's throat. Instead there's just soft wetness and heat, from the head of his cock to his pubic hair. He tries to breathe deep. He can't feel anything below the waist, not his thighs, not his feet, not his groin, even, but he feels the mouth, somehow, sucking.

"No," Erik says. "It's fine. Carry on."

"Right," Charles says. There's a rustling noise, as though he's fidgeting in the chair, or perhaps adjusting himself. Erik tries to focus on that mental image. He hears Charles chuckle. "Sometimes I find myself pondering your ass."

Erik's torso disconnects. A second ago he could feel his chest, his stomach, and now he can't. And yet he can still feel his arms.

"You have a bloody fantastic ass, I'm sure you're heard that from plenty of people before."

 _Yes, I have_ , Erik wants to say, but the words never find their way to his lips. He has no vocal chords, no tongue. His mouth is a void.

"Oh, yes, sorry about that," Charles says hurriedly. "Blocked out your larynx a minute ago and forgot to mention."

Erik tries to swallow, but doesn't feel anything. Something soft and cool caresses his nipples; it feels like a silk ribbon.

"Your ass is impossible to ignore. It almost has its own presence."

Erik wants to laugh, but it's not possible. He broadcasts his thoughts at Charles instead, _I'm going to quote you on that._

"Please do," Charles says. Erik can hear the smile in his voice. "And now, for the bonus round."

Erik can still feel his arms, but he can no longer move them. They're pinned to the bed, the only part of him kept forcibly in place. His hands are unclenched, palms facing the ceiling. It feels like he's caressing Charles' hair. His mind conjures up the image of Charles lying between his legs, chestnut hair sweaty and messy on his forehead as Erik's cock disappears between his lips. And God, that's exactly what Erik feels against his fingers. He doesn't know whether it's a particular memory or a collage or something wholly fabricated but it feels more real, more disturbing somehow, than anything until that point. He can never trust his senses after this. He's spent his entire life thinking they were something he could count on unequivocally, something to rely on when words and letters deceived him, but he's going to have let that lie go. In a world with people like Charles Xavier, he's going to have to come up with a whole new system of precautions.

"Thank you, I think?" Charles sounds amused.

Something starts crawling down Erik's perineum. It starts like a whisper, caressing Erik's balls – which he couldn't feel a moment ago – and then becomes more solid, feels like a finger by the time it arrives at Erik's hole.

"I'm going to shut off your hearing now," Charles says. "I hope that's all right."

Erik is surrounded by nothingness. No sounds or sights, no sensations. He shouldn't even feel human, but somehow he does. Somehow he's still him. And there's still a warm, wet mouth working his cock, and Charles' hair against his palms. His nipples are hard against the soft, silky touches and the finger keeps circling his opening, drawing ever closer, driving him mad.

 _You can let go now_ , Charles says inside his mind. _Please. Let go._ The words aren't sound, aren't tone or timbre, but there's an urgency to them, a sense of desperation. Erik's mind is flooded with warmth and joy and he doesn't know whether it's his own reactions or something Charles is transmitting or a combination of the two but he comes. Violently, as the finger presses at his pucker, as the mouth sucks at the head of his cock. He'd thrash, if Charles wasn't holding him down.

A second later there's blinding light, searing his eyes until they water. His head is a mess of bells and melodies and something forceful, like a drumbeat that reverberates in his bones. Erik tries to move, to cover himself against the onslaught of sensation, but something holds back his limbs, harsh and painful against his skin. He takes long, harsh breaths that sound like sobs even to his own ears.

There's something dark against his eyes, dimming the light significantly. Something solid keeps him in place, stops him from trying to crawl into his own skin. Erik breathes, trying to remember where he is, trying to cling to his own name, letting the sensations wash over him. He wants the darkness back, the absence of everything. Every part of his body hurts.

Gradually the world begins to make sense again. He distinguishes the sound of birds chirping outside, the clock ticking somewhere nearby. Then, finally, he makes out Charles' voice from the rest of the noise. He's saying "I'm sorry," over and over again. Erik opens his mouth but the sounds come out muffled, the words half formed.

"Don't try to speak yet," Charles says, urgency in his tone. "Just breathe." He hears Charles take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Erik," his voice sounds desperate. "I'm so sorry. I should have known better than to let it all go at once. It just got so hard towards the end, I couldn't hold on to anything properly."

Erik blinks, feeling wetness against his cheek, and realizes Charles is cradling him in his arms, sitting up on the bed with Erik's head against his buttoned down shirt. Charles' fingers are running gently through Erik's hair. It feels good, oddly. Something Erik can focus on while his nervous system tunes itself to the real world again.

"It's all right," he says, finally and feels Charles startle against him. The words are nothing but a croak. He goes on. "You'll do better next time."

Charles tenses. Erik feels the change in his body through several layers of fabric.

"There will be a next time," Erik says, voice coming easier. He forces himself to move away, to untangle himself from Charles' embrace.

"You just spent ten minutes nearly catatonic--" Charles says angrily.

"Which is why I know you'll be more careful next time," Erik interrupts. "We'll start with shorter intervals, less build up." Charles opens his mouth to speak but Erik goes on. "Don’t tell me it didn't feel amazing, being able to stretch your powers like that. Don't tell me you ever thought you'd be capable of something so precise and complex at the same time."

Charles doesn't try to deny any of it and Erik knows he's already won the argument. Charles will need more convincing later and a venue to act out his guilt, but he'll go on with the training eventually. All Erik has to do now is reassure him and no lasting damage has been done.

He strokes Charles' cheek, hands sure and steady. "I'm all right, Charles. I'm fine."

"I'm so sorry," Charles says, heartfelt and earnest.

"Never apologize for giving someone an amazing orgasm," Erik says with a stern expression. "That's just silly."

Charles smiles despite himself, almost bashful. "Was it really?"

"It was unbelievable," Erik says, smiling. He leans in for a kiss and Charles opens up for him, lets Erik's tongue do the last bit of convincing. He nearly whimpers when Erik pulls him down to the bed, tugging at his belt and murmuring "I hope you'll let me pay you back, some other time."


End file.
